


Three Soft Lips

by kuragay



Series: Three Pairs of Hands [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, One panic attack, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and Peter Parker gets many hugs, but it's soft guys I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuragay/pseuds/kuragay
Summary: “That isn’t your jacket,” MJ finally says after a little while, watching as Peter stretches it protectively around himself.“Smells like Ned.”It’s a little cute. For good measure, MJ reaches into the bag she brought and fishes out her leg warmers, bending down to slip them on from Peter’s ankles to his knees.“Cute,” she mutters, and Ned nods vehemently.





	Three Soft Lips

**Author's Note:**

> The softest pairing. The sweetest.

MJ starts having suspicions after the Washington Monument incident, pretty much confirms it at sophomore homecoming, and actually finds out the day they graduate from high school. See, the thing is, MJ is smart and relatively confident, but if she doesn’t know something for sure, a layer of uncertainty will always follow.

So even though she mostly knew Peter was Spider-Man, it still caught her a little off guard. Especially since she never expected for him to actually tell her. But that’s exactly what he does.

Peter smiles, his mask still off, and his eyes do the thing where they go round and big, and he says, “Say something?”

“I already knew,” MJ says, just because she has to make sure he knows. Because his subtleness requires some work. But then she finds herself tracing his body up and down in his skin-tight suit, and finds that maybe she’s not as subtle as she originally thought either.

He’s sheepish. Of course he is, and scratches at his cheek, bowing his head a little before shuffling his feet.

“But I still need to process,” MJ admits, and Peter swallows.

“Yeah, uh, of course. No problem. I’ll just,” He points to his own window, “leave.”

His legs are dangling out before he even finishes his sentence, and MJ tries to quell her fondness, but she can’t quite filter it all out when her mouth quirks up on its own accord. “I’m not kicking you out of your own house, you fucking dork.” She takes a moment to enjoy how he flushes from his ears first.

“Right, right.” He kicks off the sill and flips back into his room, and MJ’s fondness is amplified by two-hundred percent, which makes it really hard to maintain a straight face. She does it anyway, but pulls him in while she’s at it. It’s not like she’s trying to give mixed signals. It’s just that Peter has such a soft way at looking at the people he loves, and MJ has more of a hard time processing that than the fact that he’s the vigilante who got blown up last week.

Oh god, he got blown up last week. And he got shot the week before that, and there was the whole dusting incident, where Spider-Man—no, Peter—where Peter reportedly shot up into space on a donut UFO.

“Who else knows?” She asks because Peter is right in front of her, and he’s fine right now so she should focus on that.

“Mr. Stark,” he shrugs, “Ned, May, and now you. Thanks for being patient enough to wait for me to tell you, by the way.”

His eyes shift up a little to look at her, and MJ feels something stir in her chest. This is the vigilante protecting New York, and he’s shorter than her. He wears dorky shirts and is barely eighteen and whined his way through his SATs.

MJ leans in closer until she can see a dusting of freckles, and how brown his eyes are, and the baby hairs sticking onto his forehead. She leans in close enough to watch his eye lashes flutter, and to see the chapstick on his lips.

Then Peter pulls away, looking down at his feet, his mouth wobbling. “I,” he cuts himself off and shuffles towards his door. “I think dinner’s ready.”

He holds the door open for her, and they both go out into the dining room. Sure enough, Ned and May are chatting away, and MJ doesn’t miss the way Ned shoot Peter a questioning thumbs up, to which Peter returns with a plastered on, very fake smile.

The butterflies in her stomach shift to disappointment, but they return when Peter bumps his leg against hers before dumping his celery onto her plate.

-

She doesn’t exactly miss the way Peter looks at Ned, with the same soft expression and melty eyes. But she’s not the jealous type, so she shrugs and minds her own business. He can figure this out on his own.

Still, it’s a little hard to ignore the way Peter’s gaze seem to rapidly shift from Ned to her, and away again. It’s supposed to be a nice friend-date between the three of them. Ice cream and stuff, but Peter’s making it really damn hard to focus on the maple toffee crunch gelato in front of her.

“What?” She finally snaps when he stares at her for a bit too long, and he jolts so hard that he knocks his rainbow sherbert off the table.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Dude, you okay?” Ned bends down to clean it with Peter, combining their napkins together, and Peter has his shoulders curled inwards, looking so sad and small that MJ wants to kick herself in the face. Or just, ya know, apologize.

Ned looks up at her, not angry, but confused, and MJ shrugs. He’s kind of oblivious if he hasn’t already noticed how smitten Peter is. It’s almost amusing how Peter pulls away like he’s been shocked the moment Ned’s hand brushes against his, but then MJ genuinely feels bad because Peter looks ready to crawl somewhere and shrivel up.

“I’ll buy you another one,” Ned says to Peter once they clean up the mess, but MJ beats him to it, her wallet already out.

“Nah, I got this.”

“Guys, it’s okay,” Peter sighs, the paper towels crumpled in his hand. When he stands up to throw them out, MJ stands up too, making sure to catch Ned’s eyes before walking to the lineup. So maybe she adds a little strut to her step, making sure her platforms clack on the floor, and maybe she deliberately lets her eyes linger on Peter for a second too long afterwards, knowing full well that Ned notices. Let it never be said that Michelle Jones is not competitive.

-

They meet up next at MJ’s house because her younger sister really likes playing Mario Kart against three people rather than just against MJ. At some point, 1 v 1 races lose their charm.

They’re squished on the couch, Ned, then Peter, then MJ, then her sister, and it doesn’t slip past MJ how Ned loses every single game. Because he’s too busy. He’s too busy looking at Peter. Because Peter’s wearing Ned’s sweater, and it’s oversized and goddamn fucking adorable.

Alright, so MJ loses a couple races too for the same reason Ned loses them, but Ned loses more, so she counts that as a win. At least, that’s before Peter lays his head on MJ’s shoulder, yawning.

“I’m tired,” he groans his sweater slipping off his frame just enough for MJ to briefly have full view of a scarred, freckled shoulder. She’s frozen all of a sudden, her usually smart brain shrivelling up, and when she looks up, she finds Ned with a similar expression on his face. They share a long, suffering look, and MJ nods. Screw competition; this is solidarity.

-

Peter lets them stay in his room as he changes into his Spider-Man gear, undressing before shimmying into his suit.

“Don’t you, like, have the Iron Spider suit?” Ned asks, “because this suit seems kind of inconvenient.” Then he yelps because MJ kicks him in the shin, but it’s more Ned’s fault than anything because MJ decides that her second favourite thing in life is this--watching Peter shimmy into his suit. Her actual favourite thing is the expression misogynists and racists make when they don’t have any logical rebuttals to her statements at protests, but Peter’s shimmy is a close second. But she still tries not to be gross about it, so she admires, but doesn’t objectify. And she appreciates, but doesn’t do anything beyond that.

“I have the Iron Spider suit,” Peter confirms, but there’s a brittle quality to his voice, his back suddenly rigid, and MJ and Ned share an ‘oh shit’ look.

“This is still my favourite suit,” Ned squeaks quickly.

“I liked your onesie better,” MJ quips.

Shoulders untensing, Peter stands up a little straighter, then turns back to them as he presses the spider on his suit until the material is flush against his skin. He narrows his eyes, “It’s not a onesie, you heathen.” And Ned laughs even though it probably wasn’t said to be funny. But it’s a genuine laugh, which makes Peter laugh too. MJ’s stone cold, so she doesn’t join in, and there’s no evidence to prove otherwise, so her word is law.

Once Peter’s left for his nightly patrol, Ned and MJ snoop into Peter’s little hidden cubby and find the Iron Spider suit.

“Oh,” Ned says, voice quiet, and MJ can’t help but agree, her throat clogged. The suit is covered in dust.

-

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Breathe. 5 things you see.”

MJ’s never seen Peter like this, huddled up against the wall, listening to Ned’s voice. It’s not the first time this has happened, judging from the way Ned’s voice doesn’t shake, the way Ned seems to know exactly what to do. This isn’t the second time either, or the third. This happens often.

“Red,” Peter chokes. “I see red.”

“There’s nothing red here, Peter. You’re in your room. 5 things you see.”

Slowly, MJ adjusts to the darkness, enough so that she sees Peter’s eyes darting back and forth.

“MJ.”

“Yes, MJ’s here. 4 more.”

“You.”

“Right,” Ned agrees. “I’m here.”

Peter looks like he wants to say more, but then he heaves, covering his mouth with his arm. “Oh god.”

“Ok, ok. The 5 senses thing isn’t working today. That’s fine.” The familiar, panicked tilt is back in Ned’s voice, and MJ feels useless, sitting on her sleeping bag with her mouth open, trying to think of things to say.

“I’ll get May,” she finally manages, rushing out of the room the moment Ned nods.

In the background, she can just makeout Ned saying, “Where do you keep your sudoku, Peter?”

By the time she’s back with a frazzled May, Peter’s bundled in Ned’s bomber jacket, fiddling with a pen, a newspaper on his lap.

“That’s an 8, and 9 goes here. 1, 3, that’s a 4, wait no, nevermind. Oh wait, yeah, it’s a 4.”

“5,” Ned points, and Peter nods.

“Right, 5, which means this is 2.”

Tentatively, May steps forward, and Peter looks eyes, eyes rimmed red. “Honey.” Her voice is quiet and scratchy, groggy with sleep, but Peter takes one looks at her and throws himself into her arms, sudoku left strewn on the covers next to him.

“I hate this,” he mutters. “This...this,” he searches for the right words but doesn’t find them.

Usually, MJ likes to see him floundering, but now isn’t one of those times. “What happened?” She winces at her own lack of tact, but no one seems to notice it. Huh, maybe they’re all used to her.

“Panic attack,” Peter shrugs. She turns to Ned, and he shrugs too, then she turns to May, and May sighs, letting Peter snuggle against her chest.

“Trauma, stress, the entire package. PTSD.” May speaks all hushed, even though they’re all awake, but Peter seems to like it since he hums, barely registering her words.

“That isn’t your jacket,” MJ finally says after a little while, watching as Peter stretches it protectively around himself.

“Smells like Ned.”

It’s a little cute. For good measure, MJ reaches into the bag she brought and fishes out her leg warmers, bending down to slip them on from Peter’s ankles to his knees.

“Cute,” she mutters, and Ned nods vehemently. May looks up at MJ and Ned, then laughs with silently, chest rising and falling. She’s not related to Peter by blood, but the way they both act is one and the same: gentle, selfless, loving. May is a strong-ass woman, but with the way she’s holding Peter, MJ knows that May dies a little inside everytime Peter gets hurt.

Peter wiggles his legs, his eyes closing. “We should all snuggle,” he says, and then, “these leg warmers are soft.”

When the three of them look at Peter again, he’s asleep.

-

MJ kisses Peter first on Ned’s couch. They’re eating popcorn and laughing, high on Cola and Mountain Dew, and Peter’s face is suddenly so close to hers. Close enough that she looks him in the eyes, leans in, and kisses him. She has a whole new appreciation for lip balm with she meets smooth, soft lips, and moves her hands to touch a little more of Peter. His face, his neck, his hair.

Somewhere far, far behind her, Ned makes an affronted noise, and she pulls away, feeling like an asshole. Still, Peter’s little whine of disappointment makes her heart clench.

“Sorry,” MJ mutters. She can’t believe she did that. She didn’t even ask if it was okay. That’s...so _not_ okay and she wants to slap herself in the face.

But Peter shakes his head, his curly hair flopping in his face, eyes wide and earnest. “No, that was cool. I mean nice. I mean great. I just,” he trails off, and looks over at Ned, who has scooched a little bit further away.

MJ feels even worse.

“No, continue,” Ned says. And Ned’s such a nice, sweet guy. And MJ feels like diving off a cliff. “I’m not kidding. No sarcasm guys. If you guys are happy, I’m happy.” Then he nervous laughs, his smile less than convincing, and Peter’s face crumbles in on itself until he looks so crestfallen that MJ wants to call the cops and tell them how _illegal_ it is that Peter Parker is unhappy.

“This is the worst-best day of my life,” Peter grumbles, slumping back on the couch.

“Was my kiss really that bad?”

“Worst- _best_ day,” Peter repeats. “Your kiss was great.”

Is it bad that she feels relieved? But she also knows why it’s his worst day too, with the way his eyes keep flitting between her and Ned.

“Wait, why?” Ned asks since he clearly didn’t get the same memo. Are all boys so obtuse? In MJ’s experience so far, her answer seems like a solid yes.

“Because,” Peter groans, rolling over like he’s purposely moving his body so he doesn’t have to think. MJ’s been there, done that. He takes a deep breath. “Because I can’t have you both.”

She savours this moment; the exact moment Ned comes to the realization. His mouth drops open, and he’s looking at Peter like he’s never seen him before, which is frankly just relatable. Peter’s ears are bright red, and he has his face tucked in a couch cushion with only his eyes peeking out, and he looks like he’s preparing himself for a rejection of some kind.

But MJ and Ned only share another look—they seem to be doing that a lot lately—and both sigh a little.

“This makes things so much easier,” Ned says, all smiley and stuff.

“Really,” MJ agrees, maybe smiling a little too.

She savours this second moment where Peter reaches a realization too, and points from her to Ned then back to her, then back to Ned before he starts to laugh.

They end up on top of each other, Ned making out with Peter while MJ brushes Peter’s hair through her fingers. Life is good.

-

“You’re my favourite person in the world. After my family of course. But still, favourite person.” Ned and Peter are lying on MJ’s bed, kissing, and it would fine and dandy except for the fact that she’s trying to finish applying for a scholarship.

“You’re my almost-favourite person too,” Peter says. “After May. But you and MJ are kind of tied.”

“Does that mean I’m more important than Tony Stark?”

MJ wrinkles her nose, and Peter seems to be on the same boat when he says, “Do we have to talk about Tony Stark when we’re kissing?”

To which Ned shrugs. MJ’s not looking, but she knows he shrugs, and then they’re kissing again.

She ignores them and sends her application in before swiveling around in her seat, more than a little frustrated.

“Really, in my bed?”

Peter looks up, lips red and swollen, and MJ reminds herself to swallow hard. “Sorry.” The little shit doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“We can move,” Ned offers.

“Nah.” She lies down onto the bed next to Peter, sandwiching him between her and Ned, and immediately places her hands beneath his shirt. There are a couple of seconds where he squirms while her hands warm up before he turns into putty, folding against her, back to her chest.

Ned continues kissing him, and MJ can see them slowly shedding their clothes, which is great because it’s getting a little heated. Eventually, Peter and Ned are down to their boxers, and MJ’s in her bra and her underwear, but they’re so past feeling embarrassed. It’s just good ol’ kissing time.

“Turn over,” MJ maybe commands a little bit, but Peter complies easily, pulling himself away from Ned and slotting his lips to MJ’s. His soft-ass lips. She touches his chest, his abs, feels his hips bones. He’s strong, but she likes that he listens to her.

“Stop hogging him,” Ned says, like he’s not feeling Peter up.

“You’re groping my ass, Ned,” Peter manages to pull away from MJ long enough to say.

“Stop groping his ass, Ned,” MJ says, but then she gets distracted because he’s kissing her again, only to pull away a second later.

“No, wait.” Turning his head over just a little, Peter pecks Ned on the cheek.  “Please continue.”

Sitting up a little, MJ groans. The sheets are going have to be changed tomorrow.

-

MJ nearly has a crisis the first time she sees Peter in her sweater. She has a lot of cropped sweaters, and on Peter, they’re a little less cropped, but a helluva lot cuter. Sweater paws formed and puppy eyes on, it’s impossible to say no to him.

“Let’s go to Coney Island,” Peter begs. “It’s summer, we’ve graduated, and I have two hot people to hang onto.”

“He called us hot,” Ned whispers.

“You _know_ we’re hot,” MJ whispers back.

“Hot people get hot people,” Peter agrees.

MJ’s eyes land on Peter’s ass, and she shrugs. It’s not like she can disagree.

-

MJ buys them all cotton candy, but then finishes hers and ends up stealing Ned’s who ends up stealing Peter’s, but then they both feel bad at his asshole puppy dog eyes and cropped sweater, so Peter ends up with two cotton candies.

He knew exactly what he was doing too, but then again, so did MJ. She appreciates greatly the strip of his stomach that’s revealed every time he lifts his arms a little higher than waist level. And Ned’s a liar if he says he doesn’t appreciate it too.

“You brought the sudoku?” she asks once Peter’s in the washroom, just to be sure. Because she doesn’t know all of Peter’s triggers. Hell, even Peter doesn’t know all of his triggers, but that’s normal.

“Dude, I have like, five different sudokus, and also the periodic table song downloaded on my phone. Peter’s been dancing to it for like, weeks now. It’s horrible.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “I know, Ned. I was there. Don’t tell me you haven’t memorized it yet.”

“Hey.” Shrugging, Ned takes a bite of one of the cotton candies that he’s currently holding for Peter. “I’m more of a computer guy. Chemistry is Peter’s thing.” Then he pauses. “But I also definitely memorized the song.”

Peter comes out of the washroom, his hair palpably neater than before, and he gives both of them a quick kiss on the cheek. MJ has massive platforms on today, and wiggles her eyebrows when Peter has to tilt his head higher than usual.

“You’re on your tippy toes,” she snorts. Ned snorts. Peter pouts.

“You’re wearing _heels,_ asshole.”

“Babe, baby, Peter Parker. It’s cute. Also, you’re confident, and that’s cute too.”

Peter grins. “It’s pretty funny when I beat baddies up, and they realize I’m a head shorter. Not good for their fragile masculinity.” MJ falls in love a little more. Then Peter turns to Ned, wiggling his hands. “Gimme a piggyback ride.”

“Peter, I’m holding two cotton candies.” But then Ned turns and thrusts them into MJ’s hands and gives Peter a piggyback ride. MJ gives a mostly uneaten cotton candy to a ten year old tugging on her mom’s pants, strips another one off the stick and swallows it, face scrunching up at the sudden sugar intake. Her throat’s going to kill her later. Then she takes out her phone and snaps over fifty pictures of Ned falling after tripping over a garbage can, dropping Peter into the grass. Then another fifty pictures of Peter laughing so hard that he can’t get up.

-

In late July, Peter takes both of them to meet the Avengers, Ned hyperventilating so hard that MJ’s almost concerned that he’s going to pass out.

“Ohmygod,” Ned says. “I’m going to meet them.”

“Ned, they’re just people. Besides, you’ve met Tony before.”

“But Peter. _All_ of them.”

MJ doesn’t _love_ the Avengers. In fact, she has several problems with the way they handle a lot of situations, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t appreciate them. Because she definitely does.

Mostly though, she just likes watching her boys’ eyes light up. Peter’s always happier when the people he loves are with them, and that includes a messy jumble of May, MJ, Ned, and the Avengers--all of whom are rarely ever in the same place at the same time. So Peter’s missed them, and it’s evident in the way he bounces a little, hanging off of Ned’s arm.

“Not all.” Peter bites the nail on his thumb, but MJ puts a stop to that by grabbing his hand to hold. “Thor’s away.”

MJ smirks. “Careful, babe. Your big, gay crush is showing.”

“Hey, wait, no.” Ned turns to Peter. “You don’t love Thor more than you love us, do you?”

“Ummm…”

“Peter!”

Laughing, Peter let’s go of both Ned and MJ and runs forward, Ned chasing after him.

“Peter, no! Are you leaving us for Thor?” Ned whines, and Peter laughs harder.

“He’s a _god,_ Ned.”

Eventually, Peter stops running, tears streaming down his face as his eyes crinkle, and MJ shakes her head in exasperation once she realizes that she wants to kiss him silly.

“But I’m a goddess,” MJ strides up, grabbing Peter’s cheeks and pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “So what’s your point?”

“I mean, you’re both pretty godly.” Peter returns her kiss, then presses his cheek to Ned’s, sighing. “And I would never actually choose Thor over you guys. You guys are my faves.”

“Wow, that was real romantic. Your _faves,”_ MJ drawls, and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Peter. Love you too,” Ned adds, wiping away fake tears.

Instead of responding, Peter kisses both of them again and skips over to the compound. “C’mon guys, we’re _here._ And you already know I love you.” His voice goes fourteen octaves higher, which makes MJ’s lips twitch, which slowly builds into a smile. The warmth that fills her is one she never wants to leave. It’s what she wants to fall asleep with, and wake up with. It’s the kind of warmth that makes her wants to hug Peter until he can feel it too.

“Peterrr. You can’t. How am I supposed to stop blushing now? I’m about to meet Captain America! Black widow! Scarlet Witch!” Ned’s practically buzzing, face pink, and MJ’s so glad that she’s not the blushing type.

She pats his head though, to show her support. “It’s better this way. Now you can’t even pretend you’re cool. They’ll know you’re a mess from the beginning.”

“That’s cold, but so very true. Wow, why don’t I date you instead?” Ned hugs her like a cuddly teddy bear, and smooches her hair before spitting it out, wincing. “Bad idea. I think I just ate some of that.”

A smile stretches widely across Peter’s face as he watches them, and he almost looks like he’s glowing before quickly snapping out of it. Not quickly enough for MJ not to see, but then again, not much gets past her. Ned and MJ both match Peter’s pace as he leads them into the compound, pointing to the fields and other things, and explaining what they are. MJ doesn’t care that much, but she listens anyway. In contrast, Ned looks like he never wants Peter to stop talking, and like it’s genuinely interesting to know about how Captain America once got shit on by a bird while training in that one field over there, and how Vision and Wanda accidentally demolished the garden by making-out too hard.

MJ doesn’t have super powers, but now she puts ‘destroy something due to making-out too hard with Peter Parker’ on her bucket list. So she doesn’t actually have a bucket list, but if she did, that would be on it.

Before Peter can finish his story about how a cat once followed him from Midtown to the compound, a figure jogs up to them. A very tall, very fit figure, who looks very strange in regular, non blue-condom-like clothes. “Hey kid, glad you could make it.” Captain America turns to MJ, who flashes him a quick peace sign, and turns to Ned, who looks two seconds away from bursting. “You guys must be MJ and Ned.”

When Ned’s mouth falls open, MJ’s prepared and closes it for him, a hand on his chin while her eyes never stray from Peter. He hops back and forth, full of nervous energy, and MJ uses her free hand to rest on his shoulder, putting a stop to his rapid trembling.

“Mr. Steve Rogers sir, wow, hi.” The words tumble out of Peter’s mouth nearly incomprehensibly fast, despite MJ carefully kneading the tension out of Peter’s boney shoulder, but Peter doesn’t look embarrassed. He just looks ridiculously happy. “Gosh, I missed you. Really, really. Is everyone inside? I—”

Steve Rogers cuts Peter off effectively and efficiently by laughing and saying, “You can hug me, you know.” And Peter’s bounding into his arms before Captain America has even finished talking.

“Is Doctor Strange here too?” Peter asks, pulling away as Ned whispers, _“He just hugged Captain America,”_ in MJ’s ear. 

“Strange in the kitchen with everyone else.” Steve tilts his head in the direction of the building. “They’re all waiting for you.”

Peter beams.

-

“Mr. Stark!” Peter practically flies into Tony Stark’s arms, clinging to him like a koala, or maybe—more appropriately—a spider.

To Tony Stark’s credit, he doesn’t even stumble, supporting Peter with a laugh and a, “Hey, kid. Missed you too, but you should probably get off before you break my spine.”

Doing as he’s told, Peter switches his attention to the weird guy in a cape and does a hug-jump with him next.

“Getting old?” MJ can’t help but say, causing War Machine next to Tony Stark to choke on his drink.

“Tony’s practically a grandpa,” Peter agrees, jumping down from cape guy, and, “Oh yeah, I should probably introduce everyone.” So there are introductions, which MJ politely suffers through. She does too many handshakes, closes Ned’s mouth too many times, and really just wants to drag Peter and Ned into a room and cuddle.

Not because she’s tired, but because Peter and Ned always look so cuddly, and Peter’s really cute when he’s happy. He needs to be happy more often.

“I want to kiss him,” MJ mutters maybe a little angrily once Ned finishes doing his freaking-out, and Ned nods.

“Yeah, man. I know what you mean.” Then he sighs a little before both of them have their private talk interrupted by Peter waving them over to the kitchen table, where everyone but Steve—who went to the washroom—is eating tater tots for some reason. Not that she’s complaining. She grabs a handful and shuffles to Peter’s side, and Ned does the same until Peter is in his usual spot between them.

Ned goes to feed Peter a tater tot, but MJ bats his hand away and feeds Peter instead. Ned retaliates by feeding Peter two, and it’s not really a competition, but it’s entertaining enough the she feeds Peter three until Peter’s looking at both of them with furrowed eyebrows and too many tater tots to chew through.

“What am I, a chipmunk?” Peter asks, making Ned laugh.

“You guys seem pretty close,” Tony stark comments, and all three of them jolt. Even MJ because apparently Peter has special powers that make her as oblivious as the rest of them. Great. Time to break up. Fucking Peter Parker and his distraction abilities.

“Uh,” Ned says, doing his very good job of not panicking, but Peter only nods.

“We’re pretty close.” He doesn’t offer anymore, but MJ knows him well enough to know that he’s not purposely withholding information. He probably just thinks that the Avengers already know, and he doesn’t need to tell them or something. Sometimes, MJ wonders how a guy can be as dumb as he is smart.

“How much do you want to know?” MJ asks, eyes narrowing, and she takes great pleasure in the way Tony Stark’s eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. She loves confusing people—it’s one of her great passions in life.

“I’m confused,” Sam says. “There’s some weird sexual tension going on,” he points to the three of them. “And I don’t like that because I can’t tell who it’s coming from.”

MJ wants to twitch her eyebrows, or her eyes, or any part of her face to let them know how annoyed she is. This is why interacting with others is so exhausting. “This is my boyfriend, Peter, and this is Peter’s boyfriend, Ned.”

Tony Stark raises an eyebrow, slowly inching his hand towards his drink as he turns to Rhodey. “You heard that, right?”

“God, that’s a quote right? From a show or something,” Sam says, rolling his eyes as he gets up from his seat to grab a donut from the fridge.

“Oh right, I’m sure it’s just a quote.” Tony downs his drink before standing up too, brushing his hands down his suit jacket. “Should I be concerned? Don't get me wrong, I'm not actually concerned, but I need some clearing up before I celebrate.”

Really, MJ should’ve stayed home because she doesn't feel like she should need to explain her relationship to the Avengers of all people, but Peter takes care of it with a sigh. “It’s not that complicated, Mr. Stark. I like MJ and Ned, but MJ doesn’t like Ned like that. Don’t get me wrong, she likes him, but she doesn’t _like_ him, and Ned doesn’t like MJ like that either.”

“Ha, that’s probably a quote too.” Sam takes another donut from the fridge, only for Steve to round the corner and snatch it from his hands.

“Sprinkles, my favourite.”

“Hey, wait a damn second—”

“So,” two bites, and the donut’s gone, “what are we talking about?”

“Ned is Peter’s boyfriend, and MJ is Peter’s girlfriend, but MJ and Ned aren’t dating.” Casually, Bucky leans back and accepts a donut from Steve. “Or something like that.”

“It’s exactly like that,” Doctor Strange says.

Ned and MJ both squish a little closer to Peter because he starts to look a little more hesitant, and that rubs MJ the wrong way.

“Does someone have a problem with that?” MJ asks, voice low. “Because really, I would expect better from people who are supposed to be saving the world, but if you can’t get your ass out of the 90s, then I’m not sure how much I should trust you.”

“Hey now. No one's gotta problem with that. Don’t look like I kicked your puppy, please. Or like the puppy who got kicked.” Tony places a hand on Peter’s knee, hesitant. “I’m still trying to cleanse the accidental asshole tone out of me. It’s a work in progress. You know I love you, Petey Pie.”

Which is actually pretty sweet coming from Tony Stark, but MJ’s not buying it, so she pushes his hand off of Peter.

“You’ll always be a little bit of an asshole,” Sam mutters.

“It’s kind of cute.” Rhodey comes up from behind and ruffles Peter’s hair. “I’m happy for you kids.”

“Use protection,” Tony says.

Peter takes off his shoe and throws it at his face.

-

“I hate them all.” They’re in Peter’s room in the compound, finally cuddling, and Ned inhales like he’s been squeezed.

“MJ! But they’re the Avengers.”

“They’re all stupid.” She pulls Peter closer, wrapping her arms as tightly around him as possible, and arranges him in a more comfortable position on her lap. Ned helps, and Peter sighs, setting his head on Ned’s shoulder.

“But did you see Tony taking photos of us? He just needed to adjust. He’s totally into it now.”

MJ fake gags. “Ew, don’t word it like that.” Before she can think anymore about how much she wants to gently punch the Avengers in the face, she’s tackled over by Peter, who presses his face into the crook of her neck, his legs tangled with Ned’s. They lie down together, just breathing, and MJ can feel Peter’s heartbeat, can see his flat stomach as his shirt rides up, can trace her fingers gently across his collarbones.

Ned is kissing Peter’s sides, up his ribs until he reaches Peter’s neck, and then stops and just looks. Looks at the violent bruises from being Spider-Man before thumbing the sweeter, lovelier marks from being Peter Parker. MJ does the same, and when she meets Peter’s eyes, she nearly panics, wiping away his tears.

“Babe,” she runs her fingers through his hair, and he chokes, leaning into her touch.

“Peter?” His body curling around Peter’s, Ned seems just as surprised as MJ when Peter clings to him, clings to them both.

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter says, but then he’s laughing, and MJ feels her heart begin to beat again. “I’m just feeling a lot.”

 _Right._ The sensory stuff.

“I love you,” Peter says, in the throes of sleep, snuggled in Ned and MJ’s arms. She doesn’t stop playing with his hair, and Ned doesn’t stop rubbing circles into his skin. No one has to ask who Peter’s talking to. They all already know.


End file.
